


The Bacon Boys

by BunnyBopper



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, oblivious!John, post season 1 episode 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyBopper/pseuds/BunnyBopper
Summary: What if the best characters in Stargate survived?





	The Bacon Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LogicGunn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/gifts).

> So this fic is a birthday gift for my amazing wife LogicGunn who has been slowly introducing me to Atlantis. When we got to The Storm episode I immediately said those soldiers having a conversation about bacon (The Bacon Boys as I affectionately dubbed them) were my favourite characters only for them to be killed off in the next scene! Anyway hope you enjoy this little story.

The sun was beating down against the back of John's neck as they walked through the bustling market. Three of the few things that made him grumpy - stifling heat, crowds and time wasting were coming together to seriously test his patience. He did, however, manage to restrict himself to only giving the grinning woman (who was thrusting a large, three eyed fish in his direction and offering the 'best price in town') a mild grimace. He decided to take his frustration out on the person he loved to bicker with most – and who also happened to be the reason they were still on this planet even though trade negotiations had finished an hour ago.

“Care to remind me exactly why we're still here Rodney?”

“I still need to buy something.”

“Oh, is that right? Well, perhaps I should remind _you_ that leisure time isn't exactly unlimited.”

Rodney strained over his shoulder to look at him, the irritation plain on his face. “Well then it's a good thing this isn't _my_ leisure time Major. I happen to be running an errand for one of _your_ men.”

“What? Who?”

“You can't honestly expect me to remember his name can you? All you military types look the same to me. No offence,” he added when he saw the look John gave him. He thought for a moment. “One of the marines that were injured last month. Turner was it?” Rodney said, mostly to himself. Ford, who was walking alongside, nodded in confirmation.

Turner. Both he and Watford were lucky to be alive after what the Genii had done to them. Their capacity for torture was crude but effective...as Rodney experienced first hand. John still sometimes woke from panicked nightmares, covered in sweat, desperate to reach his friend before those bastards could hurt him more. He didn't know Turner and Watford well but he had been to visit them in the infirmary while they recovered. Even after he was fit to be discharged, Turner could only ever be found next to the bedside of his station partner who was in a worse state than him. John had been pleased to learn that both of them would be fit to return to their posts soon.

“What'd he ask you to get?” asked John. The question was motivated half by curiosity and half by the fact that, if he knew what they were looking for, maybe he could help find it and they could leave sooner.

“Bacon.”

“Bacon?”

“Well the closest thing I can find to it anyway,” Rodney muttered distractedly as he searched the stalls. John knew Rodney would be finding the market as unbearable as he was but he seemed quite determined to complete his task. “Said it would cheer up Watford,” he continued, “apparently he thinks it's 'the food that makes everything taste better'...can't say I disagree with him actually. Teyla thought this would be the best place to come.”

“Yes. Dr McKay's description immediately made me recall an animal that is raised here,” Teyla explained, smiling brightly. “I believe it will be the most similar in taste to...what was the meat called again Doctor?”

“Pork.”

Ford sniggered. “I think Turner is more interested in a different definition of the word 'pork'...if you guys get what I mean...” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Rodney rolled his eyes in Ford's direction at the terrible joke but John saw him smirking as he turned away.

“I am not certain I do Lieutenant...but they have a variety of cuts so I am sure that Dr McKay will find what he is looking for,” Teyla said. Her confusion caused Ford to not notice John's warning look as he laughed his boyish laugh again.

“No Teyla, what I meant was they-”

“Lieutenant!” John cut him off with his most authoritative tone before he could finish.

“Sir! Sorry sir!”

Solider Ford was back in an instant. Rodney rolled his eyes at John this time, but there is no smirk to be found, instead there was the usual frustration thinly veiled by sarcasm.

“Major, far be it from me to express an opinion on what is, undoubtedly, a full proof military system, but we are in another galaxy!” he turned back to face John and stretched his arms out wide as he walked backwards, seemingly oblivious to the multitude of people he was banging into. “Who knows if any of us will ever even make contact with Earth again? Let alone go back there. Not to mention the fact that we seem to run into life-sucking Wraith at every turn! Surely-”

“Rodney please,” said John as a fruit and vegetable seller they were passing stared at them in shock. Rodney, of course, just carried on regardless.

“Surely 'don't ask don't tell' can be a little more...lax...out here?”

Before John could respond Rodney spotted a butcher stall with a triumphant 'ah ha!'

“Ah. Yes,” he said, bounding up to the vendor. “A pound of your finest bacon my good man!”

The burley, bearded butcher just gave him a blank stare. Thankfully Teyla was able to translate and pointed to the thinnest slices of meat laid out on display. Rodney looked extremely pleased with himself once the package was wrapped in paper and handed over to him. He turned back to John and opened his mouth to no doubt continue voicing his opinion when something over John's shoulder caught his eye. His face broke out into a mischievous smile.

“One more thing Major,” he said, patting an exasperated John on said shoulder before making his way over to speak with man behind a flower stall. “Hello. Yes. I'd like to buy some flowers please, those, uh, those purple ones will do just nicely. Thank-you.”

Ford sidled over to Rodney, a massive grin plastered on his own face.

“Mckay what are you thinking? Those red ones are much more romantic!” he said, pointing to a bunch of beautiful, deep red blooms that were the most similar to roses back on Earth.

“Oh yes, let's be completely cliché shall we?” said Rodney sarcastically. But when Ford broke out the puppy dog eyes he relented. “Um, excuse me? Some of those red ones as well,” he said to the florist.

“Ooh and some of those pale blue ones!” Ford exclaimed. “They'll go well.”

“Just how much will you be contributing to this exactly?” Rodney snapped in annoyance. John just stood next to Teyla and watched with an air of resignation as their other teammates argued between themselves.

Teyla leaned into John and whispered without taking her eyes off the other two. “Major Sheppard, could you please explain to me what it is they are doing?”

“I believe they're competing to see who can be the best wingman.”

“Wingman?”

Thankfully John is spared from explaining the term as Rodney had turned back to them, trademark self-satisfied grin in place. Between him and Ford a sizeable and rather stunning bouquet had been formed. He's not sure if Watford is the type to appreciate flowers but perhaps if they are from Turner... wait he shouldn't be encouraging this. He gave Rodney his best mocking look.

“Yeah, yeah, let's go. C'mon.”

***

A few days after they had returned from their excursion John was taking an early morning run on the outer decks of Atlantis. As he neared one of the nicer overlook spots something caused him to slow his pace. The smell of bacon? Well, not quite bacon. It was sweeter and smokier but it still caused John to begin salivating immediately. His route soon took him to the source. Turner and Watford were standing on the pier. It seemed they were cooking some of the meat Rodney had purchased for them on a makeshift grill. Watford was already crunching on a slice.

“You know,” he said to Turner as he chewed. “I think I might like this even more than real bacon.” The other man grinned triumphantly before flipping more of the meat. John was just about to call out to them when Watford pulled the taller man down to plant a firm kiss on his mouth. He stared open-mouthed at his soldiers until they broke apart.

Turner's smile was somehow wider than before. “That is pretty good,” he said.

John crept backwards before tiptoeing back the way he came. It almost doubled his route but it couldn't be helped.

***

He doesn't have too much time to contemplate what he'd seen as, after a quick shower, John and his team had set up for a gate mission. This one took them to a jungle-like planet that was barely inhabited. It was, however, just as hot as the last one but with the added bonus of stifling humidity.

Rodney was a few paces ahead of him. John watched as he held out his sensor, muttering something about 'energy spikes' and the possibility of obtaining a Z-PM (a possibility that never seemed to pan out but Rodney never lost his confident optimism). The source was apparently still a good mile or so 'that-a-way.' Thankfully, John had the perfect conversation topic to distract Rodney from the inevitable moaning about the upcoming hike.

“So...it seems your contribution to enable meat-based courting was successful...”

“But of course,” Rodney said confidently. “I know a thing or two when it comes to wooing women and m...more women. All they needed was a push in the right direction. Wait. Aren't you supposed to...y'know...not tell?”

“You're a civilian Rodney, I can tell you anything I want.”

“I'm not sure that's how it works Major.”

“Look, do you want to know the details of how your expertise in the field of romance brought two people together or not?”

“You mean do I want to hear the gossip that you're so obviously desperate to tell me? Yes of course I do. Spill it.”

John tells Rodney about what he saw out on the pier that morning. He makes sure that they are out of earshot from Teyla and Ford. Not that he doesn't trust them. It just feels like something only he and Rodney should discuss.

Rodney was beaming smugly by the time he'd finished relaying his story.

“It is rather incredible how near death experiences can make a person realise what's truly important in life – and I should know - what with having had more than my fair share since we came here,” he said.

“Riiiight”

“Yes...herm...it rather does...change one's perspective somewhat.”

“You do realise who you're talking to, right Rodney?”

“What I meant was-”

John doesn't get to hear the rest of Rodney's (likely very long) sentence because he is interrupted by another near-death experience rounding the corner to meet them.

***

Back on Atlantis, his team were sweaty and bug bitten and miserable, but still fully intact. Well, Rodney wasn't miserable; he was still unconscious after being hit with a sleep dart when the head of the tribe finally grew tired of his smart mouth. Somehow John had managed to keep his rage in check and negotiate their release without anyone having to fire off any weapons. (He had to admit that negotiating was always easier when Rodney wasn't around to cause offence...even if it was much less fun without him.)

John would go and visit him later. In his anxious state, Dr Beckett has assured him Rodney would be fine, just a little groggy when he woke up in a few hours. He would probably be hungry. John would take him a few of his favourite power bars. Right now though he had other things to attend to.

The two men entered exactly on time. John adjusted some papers on his desk awkwardly as they sat down. Not only had Beckett given them a clean bill of health, Dr Heightmeyer had also deemed Turner and Watford fit to return to their duties. John knew better than to underestimate the psychological damage the Genii would have inflicted. He spent some time speaking with them so as to ensure he reached the same judgement and to commend them for their service.

“Thank-you sir, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we are ready to move forward and get back to our posts,” Turner said after John had finished speaking.

“Course you are!” John replied, quickly slipping back into friendly informality. He handed them the schedule of the times and locations they will be routinely posted for the next week.

“Sir?” Turner said slowly after he'd spent a few moments scanning the document. “Excuse me for asking this but it doesn't look like me and Watford are stationed together anywhere. We were always...”

“Is this about the incident?” asked Watford, looking concerned. “Because we have both done a lot of reflection and I hope it is evident in our individual reports that in future we-”

John held up a hand to stop him. “No, it's not about that. As I've already said I don't feel like there was any other way you could have handled the situation with the protocols that were in place at the time. Those have been reviewed thoroughly.”

“Then why?” Turner asked in the direct manner John had come to expect.

He sighed. There wasn't any way he could tell them in was just a coincidence. He hadn't wanted to go here but...

“You see...I try to make a point of...of not stationing people together who are...who care about each other,” John said, fumbling for the right words. Dear God he was not handling this well. The two men had gone rigid. Turner looked ready to defend himself while Watford looked like he'd rather be face to face with a hoard of Wraith right about now. “I mean, not that that's a problem, anyone would share a bond after what you've been through together,” he continued, trying his best to dance around the issue. “I just find it can cloud people's judgement too much. Particularly when the situation is dangerous.”

There is silence for several moments. Watford is still wearing a look of horror but Turner just seemed angry now.

“Sir,” he said, in a very stiff tone. “I may be speaking out of turn but I have to say I find that very hypocritical. Coming from you.”

John managed to hide his shock at the comment long enough to assert his authority. “Just what exactly are you implying marine?”

“Well, you seem awfully close to a member of your own gate team...”

“I can assure you that my relationship with Teyla Emmagan is strictly professional...not that I need to justify myself to either of you.”

Turner snorted. “Right...Teyla...”

John was just about to give him a warning for insubordination when Watford stepped in.

“Thank-you for your understanding sir. We're just glad to be getting back to our jobs,” he said, standing up to leave. “Aren't we Aaron?” he added with a pointed look towards the other man.

This seemed to bring Turner back to reality. Perhaps he'd realised how differently things could have gone had his commanding officer not been John.

“Yes. Thank you sir,” he said formally before standing up to exit the room quickly with Watford in tow.

John remained stunned for some time after they'd left. He's not sure he managed the situation well at all. But what did Turner mean if he didn't think it was Teyla he was interested in. Surely he didn't mean Ford? He was just a kid! But that only left...

Oh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for correcting all my errors babe! (Not Commander Sheppard lol - that's the other space thing you like!)


End file.
